I had every intention of writing about all my gruesome experiences since my original cataract surgery on May 16, but I find that I just really don't want to do it. I just have too many things to be thankful for to complain. For one thing, even when I could not see out of the eye at all, I was never frightened or ever really much worried. I was peaceful throughout the whole thing and that just has to be grace, so it feels ungrateful to be anything but thankful. And here is a picture of the greatest grace of all.
This is my doctor. Every year in January and June, she and her husband go to Serabu in Sierra Leone where she sees thousands of patients and does hundreds of surgeries for cataracts. There is no running water there and no electricity, so they have to bring everything they need. People walk from other countries when they know she is coming so that she can operate on them. They take a priest who spends a whole lot of time hearing confessions.
I didn't choose this doctor; I was referred by my optometrist. I couldn't have gotten a more perfect referral. She is Catholic, and very serious about her faith (obviously). Even though she has a huge practice and is very busy, she has stayed after work day after day to check my eye and make sure everything was going all right. She, unlike almost every other doctor that I have ever met, listens to everything I say about my symptoms and takes what I say into consideration. She told me that she was going to be praying really hard for me for the operation Tuesday. It has just been a privilege in every way to get to spend time with her and have her for my doctor.
I thank all of you who have been praying for me, and ask you to continue to pray.